


Singing Admiration

by ratchetzelda



Category: Cinderella (2015)
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/F, Feelings, Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 07:50:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13209246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratchetzelda/pseuds/ratchetzelda
Summary: AU. Hints at romantic feelings between Lady Tremaine and Ella. Lady Tremaine always admired Ella's singing...





	Singing Admiration

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to one of my best friends in the world, Olivia. I apologise for any suckage here...I love you girl!
> 
> Also, my head canon is Lady T's first name being Margarethe. I used to write her in the role-play world, and that name just fit for me. There were other writers who used that name too, so I just want to say I'm not 'claiming' it as a thing I made up. I just feel like that name suits her well....

Margarethe Tremaine admired her. She had done since she first met her. The girl, whose father she married. The girl who held his heart, more so than any other person. It was no wonder that he could never let her in too — there hadn’t been enough room.

 

Even she thought it to be such a _shame_ when he passed. Despite the debt he left her to manage, and the home he left her to run. Ella’s only family in the world then became herself, and her girls. 

 

But she still admired her because truthfully — despite being unable to admit it — she wasn’t as brave, or as beautiful, or as _kind_.

 

For Lady Tremaine — life was unfair.

 

Today, like any other ordinary day, Ella was working on her chores, while her girls took their lessons. It pained her to know that despite her hard work and _efforts_ on the two of them, they’d never measure up to Ella. Margarethe knew, even covered in soot and ash, the girl would easily find a suitor.

 

Even she herself had never been so lucky.

 

She decided not to sit and listen to Drizella sing, for honestly it pained her ears to do so. She of course would tell her girls that they sang as beautiful as the nightingale their song was about, but they were far from something as sweet or as soothing.

 

Ella on the other hand…well, that was another one of her many talents, and for Margarethe it was another confession she’d be unwilling to speak out loud. Ella’s voice was _beautiful_.

 

She made her way downstairs and toward the kitchen. Instead of beckoning Ella to bring her tea, to shield herself from her daughter’s terrible singing, and because she felt in a _kind_ mood, she went to make her own. But as Drizella’s voice grew fainter, Ella’s grew louder.

 

She slowed her pace, and listened. She even lingered in the doorway and watched her — scrubbing the kitchen floor.

 

“ _Sing sweet nightingale…_ ”

 

The secret admiration she held for her only grew, but it fuelled her contempt too. Why weren’t her girls as _beautiful_ or _talented_? Why hadn’t _she_ been? It was enough to make her sick.

 

She took a step into the kitchen, Ella stopped scrubbing and whipped her head around — caught.

 

“Stepmother!”

 

Margarethe waved her hand dismissively,

 

“Did I say you could stop?” She almost snapped. 

 

Life was cruel, so she was cruel — except she couldn’t find the heart to be right now.

 

“S-Sorry stepmother,” Ella continued to scrub in silence, but her singing stopped. 

 

Lady Tremaine pulled out a chair, and sat at the kitchen table — curiously watching. The tension in the room grew, and although Ella didn’t stop scrubbing the floor, she could tell just how tense she was.

 

“Ella,” Margarethe addressed her — she noted the way she shivered as she sat up.

 

“Yes stepmother?”

 

“I would like some tea.”

 

A smirk grew on her face as she watched her get up from the floor and go to put some water to boil on the stove. Even  dressed in rags she was beautiful.

 

“Make yourself some too,” she added, unsurprised by Ella’s shocked face. “Where did you learn to sing like that?”

 

Of course, she could see it in Ella’s eyes, wondering if this was a trap — a trick question? Margarethe thought it too. Despite it being herself asking said question, she’d never been so familiar before. But a part of her was indeed very curious.

 

A part of her wanted to know Ella better.

 

“My mother,” the girl simply answered. “She would sing to me. D-Do y-“

 

Ella had stopped herself asking, but of course Margarethe was no fool, she knew what she was going to ask of her.

 

“No,” she confidently answered. “I have never _sang_.”

 

Ella looked as though she’d been hit by her words — God Margarethe _hated_ that look.

 

“I admire your voice,” she added, clearing her throat. That seemed to perk the girl up.

 

“R-Really?” She asked, in wonder — oh why did she look so beautiful when she asked that? Her face had lit up. Her eyes sparkled — like stars. Margarethe tried not to envy her further.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Would you like me to sing for you?” The girl asked, just as the kettle started to whistle. She went to tend to it.

 

“ _Yes_ ,” Margarethe grumbled some more. At least her answer was drowned out by noise.

 

Ella heard though, and she smiled her _insufferable_ smile.

 

“But something else — I’m _tired_ of hearing you with that same old song, over and over,” she had to add. Had to stop feeling so — _connected_. 

 

Ella met her eyes. For a minute she forgot just who they were, and when she started to sing it felt — right.

 

“ _A dream is a wish your heart makes…_ ”

 

Perhaps Ella was her dream?

 


End file.
